


Wrath

by Daydreamer



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger, Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreamer/pseuds/Daydreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrath: Inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger. What would you do when that which is most precious is taken from you forever and the pain becomes something much darker? What is born from that darkness and will it ever be shown the light?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrath

"That was fun. Did you see the way they almost seemed to fly? I wish I could do that. I wonder how much it would cost to put in a trapeze."

"If you want a swing put in, I think I can manage that," he teased.

"Ass! I know dirty thoughts are going through your head right now. Can't you act like a kid for once instead of a pervy adult?"

Sasuke Uchiha glanced at his lover with a chuckle as he pulled the car out of the gravel parking lot. "You sound like a kid tonight. Did you really enjoy it that much?"

"Well, the circus makes kids out of adults. Didn't you feel amazed by it?"

"Not as much as you, apparently."

A hand shoved playfully at his shoulder. "Stop being an asshole, Sasuke."

"Oh really? I'm an asshole?"

"Yes, you definitely are."

He took his eyes from the road for only an instant and glanced into those smiling blue orbs. It was just an instant.

The screeching of tires and the exploding of glass surrounded him. Pain shot through his body as the chaos gradually disappeared into deathly silence. The warm drip of blood flowed into his eyes, blinding him, and he could not move his arm without ripples of agony flowing through him. Despite the pain, he struggled to free himself. He couldn't move, his seat belt had him trapped upside down, but he didn't care. He had to check on Naruto.

"Naruto?" He wiped the blood from his eye again as he called out for him.

He reached out a hand toward his lover's limp form hanging from his seat in the overturned car. "Wake up. We need to get out. Naruto? Naruto!"

The name on his lips faded, echo dissipating from the room as he sat up in bed. A hand lifted to his cheeks, only to find them wet with unconsciously shed tears. He refused to cry while awake, so his body took care of that for him while he slept. It was a weakness he could not control.

Shoving away the sweat damp sheet, Sasuke rolled to his feet. He passed a window, faint light trickling in from the drawn blinds as the sun began its descent into the horizon. A grunt escaped as he stepped before the sink. The pipes creaked as he turned the taps. He was so used to the sound that he paid it no mind as he scooped the water into his palms and onto his cheeks before lifting his gaze to the mirror.

For a moment, he wondered who that stranger was staring back at him. The deep scar on his brow should not be there. His cheeks should not be that sunk in and his eyes should not have looked so dead. Who was he?

A bitter laugh rumbled from him and he lifted a hand to his cheeks. This was him without Naruto. This half-dead creature was Sasuke Uchiha without Naruto Uzumaki in his life.

He tightened his fingers in his skin, longing to rip it free. Was there bone and flesh beneath the skin or was what he had become hiding just beneath?

The phone began ringing though he spared it no more attention than to acknowledge the sound of it. He continued to stare at the face in the mirror before turning away when he could no longer bear to stare at the creature who stared back at him.

The answering machine clicked and he froze where he stood. Shivers went down his spine and he listened desperately for the words he knew would come.

"You've reached the number of Naruto Uzumaki, cartoonist extraordinaire..." There was the sound of hushed words in the background before Naruto's voice resumed. "and Sasuke Uchiha, bastard extraordinaire."

"Stop being an idiot." He heard his voice come on.

"Leave your name and number and I'm sure the anal retentive bastard will call you back. Adios."

The machine chimed again and Sasuke slumped onto the bed, face in his hands as the grief took hold of him again. He fought to pull it back inside him. It was almost over.

"Sasuke? It's been a year. When are you going to change your machine?"

Sasuke snarled, recognizing his brother's voice. Itachi did not understand. He would never understand what had been taken from him.

"Mother wanted me to call you and let you know that we're having a family dinner this Sunday. She said she won't take no for an answer this time and that you had better show or else we'll come and have dinner at your place. You know how she gets, so just do us all a favor and come." There was a pause and for a second, he thought his brother was hanging up. "Sasuke, make sure you take your medicine."

With that, the call ended. Sasuke scowled at the machine before shifting his gaze to the pill bottles on the bedside table. Xanax and Wellbutrin, how modern society dealt with their problems. Take a pill and forget pain or grief or anger. Fall into the abyss and make everything disappear.

He scoffed and grabbed the bottles, the medication barely touched. Tossing them in a waste basket, he began to dress. There was no point in taking them. They did not help. All they did was make it harder to remember Naruto's smile. No medication, no matter the benefits, was worth forgetting that.

He pulled a dark turtleneck sweater over his head. Since he was released from the hospital, he had taken to wearing them to hide the scars on his neck and shoulders. There wasn't much he could do for the one on his brow. After today, it would not matter anyway.

Dressed warmly against the faint autumn chill in the air, he walked slowly through the apartment. It seemed like only yesterday he and Naruto had debated about getting a bigger place. Both their careers needed a bit space. Pain shot through his chest as he stepped into the office where a cluttered desk remained as it had the last time Naruto had sat at it. Several half-finished sketches littered the desk along with a few doodles of the circus Naruto had been so excited to attend. Unable to stop himself, he trailed his fingers over the various coloring pencils, causing several pages to slide away under the movement of air.

Sasuke's hooded eyes widened as a sketch was revealed. Though Naruto's genre of choice was cartoon comics, he was classically trained. The sketch revealed to him was proof of that.

It was him, dozing on the sofa with one hand resting on his abdomen while another lay on the floor. He looked so at peace. Was that man how Naruto saw him? His fingers trembled and he began to shake.

Staring at the sketch, he almost broke the unspoken promise he had made with himself not to willingly cry. He could not prevent dreams from wrenching tears from him, but he would not allow them to spill forth while he could help it.

Folding the paper as gently as he could, he slipped it into the inside pocket of his trench coat near his heart. This was one he would keep with him. He would keep this small piece of Naruto with him.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was time to leave. He grabbed the gun he had cleaned and armed the previous night, slipping it into the coat's pocket before exiting the apartment. Taking his key from the ring, he slipped it into a preaddressed envelope and dropped it into a mailbox on his way out of the building. Itachi could handle everything else from there.

He held out a hand and flagged down a cab from the curb after he finished mailing the key. There was a strange calm about him as he slipped in the back of the vehicle.

"Where to?"

"Carlita's."

He didn't bother listening as the cabbie began chatting randomly to him. Whatever the man said did not matter. His only purpose was to finish what had been started a year prior.

He tossed some bills to the driver upon stepping from the vehicle. If the man received a big tip, all the better for him. The money didn't matter to him any longer.

A chilly breeze caused his trench coat to billow behind him. A few people walking by shivered, but to him, the chill was mostly unfelt. The ice that had formed inside him was far worse than any external cold. All he had lived for was this moment. It had kept him going throughout this last year.

The interior of the restaurant drew his gaze upon stepping closer. Or, more specifically, the young man laughing and living up with his friends. Kiba Inuzuka, son of one of the circuit court judges and a student at the local university. Every Wednesday night, he hung out with his group of friends from college—eating and drinking like nothing had happened, like he was not to blame for the empty hole in Sasuke's life.

That man had extinguished the one good thing in his life by being stupid enough to get drunk and attempt to drive home. Maybe it would have been better if the punishment he received had fit the crime. Maybe he could have lived with his pain if the cause of it was given some punishment for taking away his most important person.

Maybe. 

Maybe.

Maybe.

But, Kiba Inuzuka was lucky. His mother pulled some strings in high places. He did not spend even a single night in jail and his punishment consisted of a few hours of community service and alcohol treatment for six weeks. Naruto's life, brilliantly happy Naruto, was only worth a few hours picking up garbage on the streets. Judging from the beer now being guzzled down, the alcohol treatment did not take all that well.

If the world would not offer up retribution for a life taken, Sasuke would take it himself. Even the most ancient of laws dictated a life for a life. If he wanted to be truthful, Kiba Inuzuka had not taken one life the night he chose to drive drunk, but two. Sasuke's life had ended as well, though he still lived in body, if merely existing could be considered life.

No longer. He had planned and prepared and now he would deliver justice. What happened to him afterward was of no consequence. All that mattered was Kiba Inuzuka being put to trial for his crimes. If society would not mete out punishment, he would.

His hand slipped into the trench coat pocket so to wrap around the gun tucked inside. He had thought long and hard about this day. The more he thought, the more fired his anger became until it was all he could think of. This was deserved and he would bring this cold vengeance onto the man who had destroyed everything that mattered.

His face was of cold determination as he pushed open the glass door and stepped inside the restaurant. No one gave him more than a second glance as he walked past the hostess and deeper into the interior. She did not follow, for which he was grateful. An interruption would have been an annoyance which he had no patience for. Those around him would be witnesses.

His hand clenched around the gun as he walked up to the table where the group of people sat laughing. As he stared down into the face of the man who killed Naruto, he could not stop the rise of anger. It tasted like bile on his tongue and he nearly snarled as it built inside him. Why was this man happy when he had destroyed the lives of countless people? Naruto was destined to spend his life making people happy.

As a rising comic artist, his art had just begun to gain notice. He was supposed to brighten the lives of people, while spending his nights in Sasuke's arms. That was what was supposed to happen. Sasuke was a well-known architect for one of the biggest firms. He spent his days designing plans, the plans for the house he was going to build for Naruto still sitting untouched on his computer as they had since that day.

This man had taken everything.

"Hey, dude. Can I help you?"

The arrogance of that son of a bitch. "You're not even upset about it."

A frown turned down Inuzuka's face. "About what?"

"Naruto Uzumaki. You don't even care that you killed him. You sleep at night without being forced to see his face over and over in your dreams."

"Dude, I don't know any Uzumaki. You got the wrong guy."

Sasuke snapped, immediately pulling the gun from his pocket and pointing it toward Inuzuka. He savored the look of terror that crossed the man's face. Good. He wanted that. He wanted that man to suffer. He wanted him to feel at least some facet of the agony that ripped through him.

"What the fuck," he screamed and tried to back away only to have the gun aimed more accurately at him. 

People around them screamed and broke for the door. It did not matter. The only person that mattered was directly in his sights.

"Naruto Uzumaki." Sasuke ripped out a photo that he carried with him everywhere. It was taken several weeks before Naruto's death, both men smiling at the photographer—Sasuke a bit more sedately than Naruto's infectious grin, but no less joyfully. "Don't you remember getting drunk and deciding you could drive? Don't you remember plowing into a car on its way home from the circus? Don't you remember killing a man?"

With each question, he shoved the gun in Inuzuka's face. His lips were pulled back in a snarl. "Do you remember him now?"

If Inuzuka said anything of importance, Sasuke did not hear it. In truth, he did not care regardless of whether it was the answer to world peace or senseless blubbering. The anger that festered inside him over the past year took away his ability to reason beyond what needed to be done. There was nothing to be said that could send him from this path he had chosen.

"Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It doesn't matter what your intentions were. Naruto is still dead."

His finger squeezed the trigger and the back of Inuzuka's head exploded with blood, bone, and brain matter. The body seemed to fall in slow motion in the now empty restaurant, sinking in a pool of his own blood. A disgusting death for a worthless man.

There was no peace in his soul as he watched blood ooze from the body. No relief came to him, not that he expected it anyway. He had simple allowed his anger and grief to guide him. Only one last thing needed to be done.

"Freeze!"

He glanced over his shoulder to stare at the street cop standing in the doorway with his service revolver pointed at him. Eyes closed in relief. At least that was one sin he would not have on his conscious. His hand tightened once more on the gun before he swung around and raised the gun to shoot, only to have the cop fire his own.

Multiple bullets passed through his body, pain accompanying them. Despite the pain, he closed his eyes in relief. The angry buzz that had accompanied him for the past year eased. The sound of sirens and the yelling of voices reached his ears, yet his eyes continued to stare at the white ceiling. In the distance, he heard a song begin playing over the speakers of the restaurant. The End of the World by Skeeter Davis. It was funny, because he had not realized music was playing until that moment. 

The song seemed appropriate in that moment, more so than any other song. Tears began to leak from his eyes, tears he had refused to willingly shed until that moment. A touch, like a whisper of breath, brushed his brow. Blue eyes stared down at him and he lifted a hand to touch that beautiful face as darkness began to take hold of him.

"Naruto..."

_I wonder who the idiot is now._

More tears spilled down his face. "I missed you."

Closing his eyes, he released his hold and gave into the creeping darkness that edged in. It was finished. He could finally rest. Surprisingly warm arms wrapped around him and his soul surrendered its hold on his body. Amid the blood and the violence, he found the peace he had waited a year to experience--the peace he had thought he had lost. And it was his salvation.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Seven Deadly Sins challenge on Y-gallery.


End file.
